


Home

by Amilyn



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fighting, Grief/Mourning, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, Loss, Making Out, Making Up, Yelling and Shouting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 19:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7374262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amilyn/pseuds/Amilyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Han and Leia settle into their relationship after RotJ.  But sharing lives and space and habits and time does not come naturally to either of them.  Leia's never lived in a settled place as an adult.  Han's never tried to settle in one place ever.  They miss each other when they're apart, and fight--and make up--when they're in the same place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Melancholy of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Roane and BlueMorpho for their betas! Special thanks to Roane for writing lessons and encouragement.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia has important work, a place to live, and a position building the New Republic. Han is putting out lingering Imperial fires and isn't there, and everything feels wrong and foreign.

The door to her quarters was stuck. Again.

Leia kicked it like Han would the _Falcon_. It scraped, metal whining against metal in the track, then thunked closed. She glowered and kicked it again.

She leaned against the entry table, both hands balled into fists. On her short walk from her office to the building where her quarters were located, she'd bumped into half a dozen passersby, all talking about the fall of the Empire. Some were thrilled, some were furious, some grumbled or crowed about the effect on their businesses, some fretted about the unknown...their voices and thoughts pressed at her from all sides.

Here, in her quarters, she let her shoulders slump.

It had been five years since she'd lived in an apartment like this. Then she'd been a junior senator. _A baby senator, really._

A lifetime ago, her parents had travelled with her to Coruscant. Her mother had seen to her schedule and support staff while her father helped her arrange the few decorations she had brought.

Leia set her key card in the small bowl on the table and stroked the bowl's greens and blues. The glaze was cool and smooth under her fingertips. These colors were _home_ : trees and mountains swirled together with flecks of warmer colors showing a rich, floral landscape.

The colors were as mixed as the fragments of her planet had been in the depths of space. Somehow this trinket had survived the moves, the narrow escapes, the destruction. She swallowed hard and moved to the sitting area.

Five years ago, she'd rolled her eyes at her father's review of Coruscanti etiquette, of Senate rules, tutoring her as if she hadn't been shadowing him for years before her own election. He'd kissed her forehead, and she'd melted into his chest as he whispered his pride into her pile of elegant Alderaanian braids.

They'd left for Alderaan, and she'd spoken to them regularly during her short stint in the Senate. Then she took her first real mission for the Rebellion.

Then Alderaan was gone.

She returned to Coruscant after the Emperor's death, after the Battle of Endor. The Rebellion had won, and she was part of the team building the New Republic government in the chambers where she'd first served.

Coruscant seemed entirely the same, and she felt completely different.

Han and Luke were her family now, and they were in and out, still putting out the fires of the dying vestiges of the Empire. Her parents weren't there to fuss around her. Her father would never see the success of the insurrection he helped start. All too often, she returned home to empty rooms, and her chest and their victory felt empty as well.

She swiped at her cheek, swallowed the lump in her throat, inhaled past the weight on her chest, blew the air out, pushed herself away from the table.

There were muffled footsteps above, distant conversations on all sides, and holos playing everywhere.

Wind was audible on the 44th floor no matter how good the noise baffling.

Speeders and hovercars whizzed outside the window. Occasionally their drivers' shouts or beeps or poorly calibrated engines were audible.

Activity hummed around her, all hours of the day, every day of the week.

There was no quiet.

Leia scoffed at the thought. Five years in makeshift bases had accustomed her to bustle at all hours. This should be no different.

But there was no peace in this peace.

Sleep brought little rest as her mind spent the night scouting out relocation options, packing her belongings, facilitating supplies and troop quarters and duty rosters. She awakened, as she had every morning for over five years, assessing her surroundings, listening for the unexpected, ready to spring into action.

There was no action demanding her attention. Her schedule merely involved hours of research and reading on Republic Parliamentary Procedure and Intergalactic Cross-Species Diplomacy in preparation for offering suggestions regarding fair and balanced justice system regulations.

Her ridiculously large bed--twice the size of the bunk she and Han shared on the _Falcon_ \--was smooth on Han's side. The duvet and pillow were plush and soft. Tasteful artwork--some salvaged from the remains of the Alderaanian embassy--graced two walls. Another held a gilded mirror.

Everything except the gilding was incongruous with how she felt and who she was. She had no soft edges, no tastefully-drawn facade. She was hard. The give of the carpet under her feet mocked her.

She hesitated only a moment before treating herself to a real hot water shower in the 'fresher, reminding herself that it wasn't a waste of resources, that they were no longer on careful rations.

She lived in this empty space, enormous compared to any of her Rebellion quarters, but it was not home.

So many others, they were settling down, relishing life without war, without being always on the run.

Leia had never been settled, not in her adult life. Settled and comfortable, that was the life she'd had as a child.

She felt like a child, pampered, every need and whim cared for. She felt childish in her discomfort and dissatisfaction with it.

They had won. The Empire and Emperor were dead. They were building what she'd spent her whole life wishing for, working for, preparing for. This dissatisfaction or...melancholy was foolish.

She kicked her door again and it opened with less complaint. _You have to show 'em who's boss,_ Han always said.

That made her smile.

The fledgling government had offered to send a car for her, but Leia had insisted she preferred to walk, to get a feel for the environment.

She hadn't told them she was evaluating the area, the hiding places, the strongholds, the tactical positions. She knew every sidewalk, every alley, every inset door that would provide cover between her building and the Senate offices. She knew where she would direct civilians if, in spite of it all, an insurgency broke out. She knew where she would make her stand in the case of attack from any direction, including above.

She didn't know how to keep passersby from knocking her off-kilter as they bumped into her shoulder or edged past her if their longer legs carried them faster.

It had been five years since anyone had failed to give her path deference...and even then, she'd experienced it only here, only in those few months of her doomed term as Senator.

Certainly she wasn't so egotistical to be out of sorts because no one was treating her like a _princess_. She rolled her eyes at herself before palming her way into her office.

When her assistant buzzed her, she was nibbling a protein bar she'd tucked in a pocket on her way out this morning. She sipped her tea, washing down crumbs. She started to answer when her door opened.

"Surprised to see me, sweetheart?"

Leia felt her shoulders relax--she hadn't even realized she was hunching them--and a warmth filled her belly and chest.

Han came around her desk and she stood to kiss him.

"I thought you'd be at least another week," she said, leaning against him.

"Well, a little twin told me you were having a hard time."

She frowned at him, indignation cooling her initial response.

Han placed a finger on her lips. "That, and we were done. The Seswenna and Moddell Sectors, and the worlds in between, caught wind of the Emperor's death. They'd already imprisoned--or killed--their Moffs and were eager not only to pledge loyalty to the New Republic, but had organized soldiers to send out to help us quell remaining Imperial cells."

"That...that's…" Leia couldn't remember the last time she was at a loss for words. "But...we tried a dozen times to recruit them into the Rebelli--"

"Not everyone's as willing as I am to fight for a lost cause, Princess."

She swatted at his chest, then hopped up to sit on her desk to kiss him more easily.

He nuzzled her cheek, then along her jawline back to her ear. Her breath caught, and she gripped at him, one handful of his vest, one of his his hair.

"If we stay here, we're going to mess up all your piles of flimsies or accidentally delete your datapad settings." He sucked lightly at her neck for a moment. "Again."

She tugged at his shirttail and ran her fingers along the bare skin of his back. He nipped harder. "Han, I can't just leave because you came home early. I have work to do."

"And everyone else in the building closed up two hours ago. What time do you think it is?"

"About fifteen?"

"Try half past nineteen. I tried home first. Shoulda known better." He stood up.

She hopped down. "I could pick up here tomorrow--"

Han frowned at her. "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Yes--"

"Other than this?" He held up the half-finished protein bar.

She thought for a moment. "No. That was my lunch."

"Well, it's dinner now."

"Then it's a good thing you're back. You can cook. I'll just tidy this away." She stacked her notes, squared off the items on her desk, and put an arm around his waist, tilting her head against his shoulder for a moment. It was frightening, to have her sense of contentment so dependent on another being.

Han tipped her chin up and kissed her once more. "It's all right to miss me, Leia," he said softly.

"What were you doing in the Outer Rim? Taking Force lessons from Luke?"

Han rolled his eyes as they headed for the door. "I still think that's a bunch of mumbo-jumbo. And I'm not cooking this late. We're going out for food."

"Let's take the food home," she suggested, running fingers along his side and holding the hand that was draped over her shoulder.

He shuddered and squeezed her hand tighter. She loved that she had this effect on him. It evened the field between them, since he had the same hold over her.

The deep sense of peace she'd despaired of the night before...it hadn't been elusive because of the war or her. She'd been lonely, she realized. Surrounded by so many people and, for the first time in five years, almost none of them knew her or called her by name. The anonymity was a relief, but without family, without the people who'd fought for and with and beside her, that was what made the wider world so empty.

As they strolled home, people bumped into them, but it didn't irritate her now. She relaxed against Han. Han who slowed his long stride so she didn't have to scurry. Han who would never settle down and stay in one place forever, and whom she would never ask to do so. Han who was steady, reliable, for all his posturing otherwise. Han who would always come back.

They bought dumplings and spiceloaf from a street vendor near the apartment building and the smell filled the lift as they ascended.

They approached her--their--apartment and the door didn't slide immediately open.

Han kissed her once more, then kicked the door. "Gotta show these things who's boss sometimes," he muttered.

Leia laughed and tugged him across the threshold.

~o~  
end  
~o~


	2. The Sanctuary of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han's been home for a while, but he and Leia can't seem to find a balance of how to manage quiet, peacetime life. They fight...and make up.

The door to her quarters was stuck. Again.

Leia kicked it.

It toppled inward.

Leia leapt back and let out a singularly undignified squeak. The crash of the door was accompanied by an indignant shout.

"I said hold on!"

"Han?"

"Who the hell did you think was going to be here? The Emperor?"

"First of all, if you want to be heard, you're going to have to shout a whole lot louder than that. Second, I wasn't asking who you were. I was checking to see if you were okay."

He rubbed his head. "I'll be fine."

Leia stepped gingerly over the toppled door, wheels, bearings, and hydraulic parts that were scattered on the floor. "What is all this? What are you doing?"

"Fixing the door before it traps you in or out of here. Or you break your foot trying to get it open."

"You didn't have to--"

"Hey, it needed to be done. I'm doing it."

"Did you have to make a huge mess right when I was getting home?"

"I never know when you'll get home, Princess."

"Well, if you can repair the door--"

Han's chest puffed. "I can repair anything. I keep the _Falcon_ flying, don't I?"

"--then you could have repaired it earlier. Anyway, this is our home, not your ship!"

"This is your place. My ship is my home."

Leia's body went cold before her temper flared up to heat her cheeks. "Your home is supposed to be with me. When you're even here!"

He leaned toward her. "And when exactly are you here, Your Worship?"

"As soon as I'm done in the Senate."

"What am I supposed to do all day? Meet the neighbors? Start a sabaac tournament?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "There is no space in your life for me around all your paperwork."

"I have very important--"

"Work to do. I know. But here's a thought. I'm supposed to be important to you too!"

"You are important!"

"Awfully hard to tell sometimes. But, hey, you want me to leave the door?" Han tossed his tool aside and stomped out of the room.

She leaned against the entry table, both hands balled into fists. After a moment she pounded both fists on the table, rattling her key-card bowl before stomping after Han.

"It always comes back to your ship, doesn't it?"

Han grabbed shirts off of the floor, shoving them in a bag. "I know I can rely on my ship, Princess." He yanked his pants from the back of a chair and waved them at her. "You don't want my mess around your place? Fine. You don't want me here? Fine."

"What gave you that idiotic idea?"

"Idea?" He flung the closet open. "It's not an idea, Your Worship. If you wanted me around, I'd see you for more than five minutes and some late-night fucking." He leaned over and jabbed a finger into her face. "But no, any 'idiot' can see the Princess-Senator has important meetings to attend and ten thousand important documents to pore over." He turned to go and she grabbed his arm.

"Half those documents haven't been seen in twenty-five years!"

"Then they couldn't have been that important, could they?"

All the neighbors could surely hear them by now. Han jerked his chin forward, and Leia shouted back anyway. "Do you have any idea how many records the Empire destroyed? We're lucky we have anything at all but a few dusty memories of procedure!"

"And stars forbid you don't have as many _procedures_ as possible!" His hands rested on his hips.

"After the past five years you should know we can't afford to get this wrong now!"

Leaning forward so he could look her in the eye, he lowered his voice, taunting, "Well, with you there, how could they get anything wrong? You'd let them know right away."

He'd hunched to yell at her since the base on Hoth. It infuriated her. "You are impossible!"

"See?" He pointed at his chest with his thumbs. "I'm 'impossible.' Impossible to reason with, impossible to talk to, impossible to live with. You don't want me here."

"You are a complete idiot if you think I don't want you here!" Her cheeks burned and she panted with fury, but she forced herself to take three full breaths before continuing. "...if you can't see that I need you here."

"Need," Han repeated, also breathing hard. "You need."

"You asked me that once. What I needed." Leia set a hand on Han's chest. "I need _you_." She looked up at him.

The bag hit the floor with a soft thud and their hands were on each other before either drew breath. Han pulled Leia to him, kissing her with one hand at her waist and the other buried in her hair. Hairpins sprang loose or poked her scalp and she felt one braid pop free.

Leia reached up the back of his shirt and laid an entire arm flat against the warm, damp skin. Muscles rippled under her forearm as Han leaned farther forward. Then he was standing up, lifting her with him, and she used the last momentum of her feet leaving the ground to hop up and wrap her legs around his waist.

Han turned and bent forward, letting her fall the last inches to be flat on her back on the bed. She pulled his shirt over his head as he let go, and a split second later his hands were under her shirt, one cupping a breast, the other slipping into the waistband of her loose trousers.

She sucked at the point where his neck and shoulder met, his pulse hammering beneath her lips. She wrapped her legs around him again, pinning him against her then raking her nails up his back. She smiled against his skin as he gasped into her ear. He shifted and kissed along her jawline to the corner of her mouth, his full attention on that one corner. Her breath caught, and she gasped, then her lower lip was completely between his and nothing else mattered--

"Shit." He let go and started to sit up, but she locked her ankles together, pulled at the back of his neck.

"God, sweetheart, you, I...we--"

"Loth-cat got your tongue?" she purred. She sucked his lip into her mouth, nibbled at it, then moved to the corner of his mouth like he'd just done. That was so, so good.

"Leia." He sat all the way up, pulling her with him. "Sweetheart, I really _really_ don't want to stop."

She moved her attentions to his ear.

"Leia." He put his hands firmly on her sides and moved her away from him. "Door."

"Mmm?"

"Leia, we have no door."

She paused. Stopped. Leaned against him. Held him close, inhaling his scent. Then she sighed, scooted back, and handed him his shirt. "Better get started on that door then." She ran a hand from his groin, up his belly, and through his chest hairs, stepping behind him to nip his ear and say, "That's a promise for later, hotshot."

~o~

Three hours later, Han made one final adjust with the sonic wrench and said, "Well, give it a try, Princess."

Leia stood, palmed the reader, and the door slid open without a creak or a groan.

"There you go."

"You know you make me crazy."

"Told you I could fix it."

"You did." Leia palmed the door closed again. "And it only took four tries and one trip to the merchant for a hardware kit. I'm very impressed."

Han rolled his eyes. They seemed to take turns doing that, Leia thought fondly. She twisted a pinch of his hair around her finger. He gathered the tools and parts that were still scattered around the apartment's entrance and put them back into his tool kit.

He stepped right up against her, put a hand in her hair, and leaned over to kiss her neck. "Where did we leave off?"

"We left off before dinner."

He groaned.

She set the tool kit on the entry table and twined their fingers together. "Let's get flatbread and stew, then we'll figure out where we left off."

~o~

Leia pressed against the bare skin of his side, head on his shoulder. He tucked her against him, hand tracing languid circles on her arm, neck, and breast. Neither of them had fully caught their breath yet. She draped a leg across his waist and buried her face against him.

"Worth waiting for, moon jockey?"

Han was silent.

She shook her hand against his chest, and moved to sit up. He held her tight against him.

"I have to leave tomorrow."

His voice echoed to her ear through his ribs.

"Leave?" She pulled his face toward her. "We just made up."

"We did. It was some great making up." He kissed her forehead.

"I thought we were done fighting."

"Sweetheart, we'll never be done fighting. We'll just take breaks. Me leaving has nothing to do with us fighting. High Command contacted me this afternoon. They've got word that the Braxant sector is making overtures of joining the Republic."

"And you're going there, then coming back."

He brushed back a wisp of hair from her forehead. "Of course I'm coming back. If we hadn't worked things out, I might have slept on the _Falcon_ for tonight. That's it."

"What time do you leave?"

"Chewie and I leave tomorrow afternoon. They want someone there fast, before the local leaders change their minds."

"That's why it's you with the _Falcon_."

"Yep." Han was stroking her arm now. "That's why I was fixing the door earlier. I didn't want you to have to bring in some stranger. I mean, it's not like I haven't repaired everything on the _Falcon_ a dozen times. How hard could a door be?"

Leia chuckled. "Pretty hard, apparently." She held him for a long, silent moment. "How long will you be gone?"

"Hard to say. If the hyperdrive fails--"

She swatted him. "Don't even talk like that. The Braxant sector is at the farthest edges of the outer rim. If something goes wrong with the _Falcon_ , you'd better get her fixed out there and come straight home. Since I'll be wanting you for some late-night fucking by then."

He set a hand on her face. "I couldn't deprive you of that. It'll take a helluva lot more than a broken hyperdrive to keep me from coming back to you, Leia."

This was Han Solo. He'd never be entirely settled. "I hate watching you go."

"I'll be back. I'll always come back."

She believed him. This was her quarters, and the _Falcon_ was his primary residence, but it was when they were with each other that they were home.

He squeezed her arm. "Anyway, you'll love it. Your own space, your own hours, no mess, no doors falling in, you get the whole bed--"

"I never even go near your side when you're not here. But the quiet is nice." She dragged her fingertips through his chest hair. "It will be nice not to trip over your things."

"See? By the day after tomorrow you'll be back to forgetting to eat."

"I do no--"

"You do. Regularly. And, on that topic, I've had a talk with your assistant."

"You did no such thing." Leia sat up and stared at him.

"I absolutely did." He folded his hands behind his head, his grin insufferably smug. "I gave her a schedule, and she's going to remind you, then report back to me."

"You can't--"

"Uh-uh. I'm a general now. Rank oughta get me something other than a scratchy, uncomfortable uniform."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm going to… I'll--"

His grin just grew more crooked. "Take your time, sweetheart. I'll wait for you to figure it out."

She smacked his chest. "I'm staying home tomorrow. I'm in the mood for some morning fucking. For a change." She leaned over and kissed the smirk right off his face.

~o~

A night later, she had to admit, it was peaceful to have her quarters to herself. No foods left sitting out, no screws dropped during a project and left for her to step on. Just a quiet evening with Old Republic documents, a glass of wine, and a salad to appease Han. He commed before her bedtime local time.

Four days later, he was out of comm range. She missed his voice, his skin against hers, his things strewn about their apartment.

In bed, the sheets were too cool against her skin. She shivered, rolled onto her side, and dragged his pillow toward her. She buried her face in it, and breathed deeply.

She murmured into it as she relaxed for sleep, "Come home soon to make me crazy."

~o~  
end  
~o~


End file.
